Page 64 of Trapped with the Billionaire

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Nicole

I hadn’t seenJosh since driving back from our lunch with the westside store staff earlier this afternoon.

The moment in the parking lot had been electric, but we hadn’t talked about it, about us, on the way back to the office. Maybe it had been my imagination.

Stopping by Dee’s desk, I asked, “What’s he up to?”

“He and Gary are going over things is all I know.” Dee put her pen down. “Mrs. Q left in a hurry. Any idea why?”

“No, she didn’t say anything to me.”

“In theJournal, they always say it’s a bad sign if the CFO leaves suddenly. It means the financials are shaky.”

Ernst had considered his time too valuable to scan theWall Street Journaldaily. As a result, Dee had been tasked with reading the paper and picking out the occasional article that would matter to him.

“Change like this can trigger some people to make rash decisions,” I offered.

“You don’t say.” Dee eyed me, a reminder that I’d just profiled my actions of yesterday.

I retreated toward my office and turned. “All that’s changed is we traded Ernst for him. Personally, I think it’s an improvement in the company’s situation.”

Dee nodded. “Me too.”

I closed my door for my end-of-day calls with the store managers.

When I finished, it was almost six. Josh’s door was still closed, so I locked up and left.

Chapter 16

Nicole

Lara wason the couch when I got home. “How’s the replacement fuckhead?”

I closed the door behind me and set my purse down. “His name’s Josh, and he’s not a fuckhead.”

“So says you. I never had a boss that wasn’t,” she complained as she turned up the volume on the TV.

“Pardon me for interrupting your television watching.” I walked slowly in front of her instead of behind the couch on my way to the kitchen. “Have you worked your trees today?”

She ignored me.

I walked back in front of the screen. “Well, have you?”

She hit pause on the show. “No, I haven’t, and you’re not my mother.”

I was not having this conversation again. My hands went to my hips. “No. But I’m the one who just bailed you out of jail. I’m the one giving you a roof over your head. I’m the one that gives a shit about you, and all I ask for in return is a little fucking respect, and a little fucking help.”

Her eyes turned sheepish. “Sorry. You’re right. It’s just that every time I go out back, Maro yells at me that I’m doing something wrong. He scares me. I’ll do it tomorrow when he’s gone.”

I didn’t feel like falling for the sympathy play again. “He knows more about the trees than you or I ever will, so accept his advice.”

She nodded. “Whatever.”

I stepped out of the way, and she resumed her show. A dismissivewhateverseemed to be the best I was going to get this evening.

“What are you going to do about work?” I asked.

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